Tools
by Raven-igma
Summary: He was not a soldier built for war, not a weapon to be tempered, but a mere human child with far too much resting on his shoulders. GhiraLink, Oneshot


**I've actually had this draft sitting around for like months... I decided to finish it recently.**

**Warnings for ANGST. Also there will be allusions to the first hero/Skyward Sword prequel manga canon.**

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><p>It wasn't determination that carried him through the woods despite his exhaustion. It wasn't the same drive that had compelled him to take up the sword and dive headlong into danger after his best friend. It wasn't that which had grown into a righteous urge to protect those dearest to him, and take on the immense task of purging evil for good.<p>

He was running, but not from an immediate threat (or one that could be seen.) Never mind that dusk had fallen. Never mind that the bird statues would no longer carry him up to his home in the sky once the sun had vanished completely. Never mind that he had absolutely no idea where he was going. All of that was meaningless now.

The hero was lost to his emotions - it could hardly be called honorable what he was doing, allowing himself to lose control in such an impulsive manner, but he didn't care.

What had felt like months of tribulation had taken their toll. In retrospect, he hadn't thought much of what he'd been doing at the time, grueling as it may have been. Every puzzle he'd solved, every enemy he'd felled, every trial he'd overcome only serving to carry him closer to his goal and ultimately making him stronger as a person.

All for so much more than what he'd thought was a mere rescue mission.

She'd stood there as she told him all that her plan entailed, all the measures she'd taken to ensure victory. And he'd listened, not speaking a word because he found himself unable to do so as she laid out every detail. In those few minutes that felt like a lifetime, he didn't see her as the girl who had grown up in Skyloft alongside him; that image was replaced by the higher power of the goddess. In the light she'd been put, he realized just to what extent he'd been played, and his best friend as well for that matter.

Their bond had been forged for this very reason. Their closeness had served only to push him into doing this deity's business.

He didn't know how to feel because even though he would fight and continue fighting, for Zelda, for everyone, he saw everything for what it truly had been: a lie. He began to doubt if his childhood friend had ever existed, if the goddess' presence was what had been wearing her face and speaking through her voice the entire time.

_I used you._

Hylia spoke to him, and he felt the sincerity of her apology even in his dumbstruck state. He could process nothing else, that was until Zelda seemed to return to him, speaking words of reassurance that she was still there, still whole, still her father's daughter, still _his_ friend. And though he didn't think he could distinguish between what truly was her and what wasn't, he found himself wanting to trust - what else could he do at this point?

And then it had all vanished in a flash of light and shine of crystal. He'd scarcely had the time to register what was happening, and soon she was behind a barrier, impenetrable like diamond. She was gone again within a matter of seconds, the silence of the temple settling like fallen snow.

Alone again, the weight of everything he'd been put through seemed to manifest on his shoulders all at once. All this time he'd convinced himself to keep on moving because there was always what he'd thought to be an end waiting for him, but now with Zelda in the state she was - close, yet just out of reach - that end lay out of sight.

He still had so much left to do.

The many injuries he'd sustained, left untended to in his haste, seemed to amplify. Despite this, he found himself running, no direction, not even an inkling of an idea of where he wanted to go so long as it was _away._

He left the Gate of Time behind him, not speaking a word to Groose or the old woman. His expression was a neutral mask, and they didn't see it begin to crack as he reached the doors, and then left those far behind as well.

A chiming rang in his ears, clear as day, but he ignored the sword spirit's attempts to speak with him. Perhaps it was a childish endeavor, but he didn't think he could bring himself to face her at the present time.

The hero didn't know how far he ran, nor for how long, but when his physical state finally got the better of him he collapsed into his knees. Fingers digging into the grass, he bowed his head as a ragged sob forced its way from his lungs.

He'd been foolish, so foolish and short-sighted. This wasn't a matter of finding his best friend any longer, or rather, it had never been that simple. All that Hylia had told him had made him realize that so much more was on the line, or perhaps he had realized but it never truly registered before now. Whatever the case, it wasn't just Zelda's life being threatened, it was the fate of the very world as he knew it.

And should he fail, it would all crumble and the blame would rest solely with him.

He'd never asked for this. He never wanted to undertake such a responsibility. He'd done so much already... he'd even _killed_ for his cause, despite having never harmed another creature in his life before his quest...

What if he were to mess it all up after he'd come so far?

Focus was slipping from his grasp, whispers of doubt clawing their way into his ears. He clenched his teeth as his vision blurred - squeezing his eyes shut did nothing to stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks and dropping to the ground. Raising his arm, he wiped his face on his sleeve, only succeeding in smearing some of the dirt clotting his skin on the already soot stained fabric. The Fire Sanctuary had been the last place he'd visited before returning to the Sealed Grounds, its unforgiving nature evident in the various cuts and burns covering his body. He hadn't bothered cleaning himself up yet.

At the mercy of his own turmoil, Link cried for as long as it took for the stress to alleviate, until his heaving transitioned into soft gasps. He was left even more exhausted than before, wanting to do nothing but lie there and sleep though he knew he couldn't. Out in the open, any wandering monster surely wouldn't have a difficult time finding him.

Or rather, it had already found him.

Hearing movement mere yards away, the human's blood turned to ice. The footsteps were far too light, far too controlled for it to have been a mere clumsy bokoblin or any other such creature - indeed, the presence was so _familiar_ he didn't even need to turn his head to confirm who it was. The air seemed to thicken with an aura that could only belong to one person, a dark resonating chuckle pouring into the area and sending Link's heart into an erratic pounding.

"Oh, and what do we have here?"

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><p><strong>You're wasting far too much time, Ghirahim.<strong>

The demon lord felt rather than heard his master's words. They reached up through the earth and crawled across the surface to seek him out, taking hold of his form and thrusting themselves into his consciousness with such authority he was forced to halt where he stood. With them came a pronounced discomfort, not quite a pain but a clear indication of impatience.

Ghirahim was taken by surprise, but said nothing for he had no defense. He knew time was growing short and his master's leniency even shorter, and for that matter his own. Three times he'd come close to capturing the girl and three times she had lucked out and gotten away. Such shameful incompetence was more than worthy of punishment...

**Perhaps a reminder is in order to rekindle your motivation?**

The demon grimaced, shaking his head as though it would affect his master's judgement in the slightest. He already knew what was coming, he could only pray Demise would be merciful this time.

**Come to me and break this seal with your bare hands.**

The command resonated throughout his entire body, seizing him like a vice. He dropped to his knees with a sharp cry, unable to obey yet having no choice _but_ to obey. The contradiction was an agony only those bound to a sword knew; disregarding given orders would cause excruciating torment, even if those orders were physically impossible.

He didn't plea for it would do him no good, and merely accepted his master's displeasure until his presence had faded once again, the pain going with it. With a growl of discontent, he picked himself up and smoothed his hair out, in more of a state of disarray than he'd like to have been.

Night had settled, but the darkness was hardly an issue for his eyes. He padded along as though he hadn't just been grovelling in the dirt at the mercy of an invisible assailant mere minutes ago.

He carried on without direction, more than fed up by the way the Gate seemed to evade him. His search grew more infuriating as the days wore on. _How hard could it be to find?_

Ghirahim came to a stop, the whispering breeze lifting the white curtain of hair from his face a bit, the hushed chorus of the woods doing nothing to drown out a noise so pronounced he surely couldn't have imagined it.

Did his ears deceive him? Was that a _sniffle?_

Bemused and mildly intrigued, he made towards where his particularly acute sense of hearing had located such an oddity. He didn't know of any creatures that _openly wept_ in such a place; usually even the dumbest of Kikwis knew to stay hidden and especially at this hour.

The sight that greeted him was the last thing he would have expected.

An indescribable fury welled up within him, coursing like fire through his veins as the source of such strange noises gradually revealed itself. The demon lord took a deep breath and let it out through his nose as he stalked forwards, the only thing holding him back was confusion in seeing the nauseatingly familiar form of the human hunched over in the grass.

Never had he seen such despair pouring from his adversary. It simply couldn't have been the same insufferable mortal who had made it his duty to thwart the demon at every given opportunity. He wasn't sure if he was more baffled by this chance encounter, or intrigued.

He made no effort to conceal his presence, deriving satisfaction in the way he saw the form before him tense in what could only be apprehension. Ghirahim was composed in his advance, though venom seeped from every pore. He curbed the urge to summon his blade and drive it through the other's back.

If only for curiosity's sake.

After all, if the heat of battle or the most serious of threats didn't even remotely damage the youth's composition, then what, of all things conceivable, could have provoked such grief?

"Oh, and what do we have here?" The words rolled off the tongue so easily, mild and airy in tone. He saw the human begin to draw himself upwards, sluggishly as though his limbs weighed far more than what was appropriate for his - rather unimpressive - stature. "A bit upset, are we, boy?"

Link didn't respond, nor did he turn to face the demon as he rose to his feet. It was almost like he was inviting him to attack while his back was turned.

How utterly idiotic.

"Now, I _know_ we didn't leave off on the best of terms when we last encountered," Ghirahim took another step forward, not taking his eyes off of the human, "however, given the fortitude you have shown thus far, I believe there's little that could justify this pathetic display."

Again, silence was all he was greeted with, but he didn't miss the way Link's head inclined towards him, just slightly. Surely he must have known the demon would not stand for being ignored for long.

"_Do_ pardon my curiosity, but I dare say something has you deeply troubled, sky child." The closer he approached, the more apparent it became that the young man was not merely standing there; his fists were clenched, a tremor running up and down his entire body. He doubted it was fear that made the boy quiver so violently, though he could never be quite sure...

"Hm..." The demon lord's hands found their way to a stiff set of shoulders, gripping them with a tightness that let his irritation be known. He placed his mouth near the other male's ear, as he had done many a time before, speaking in a hushed voice. "Oh, come now. You've always been such a wonderful listener, I'd be willing to return the favour, just this once..."

That seemed to snap the boy out of his unresponsive stupor. He pulled away and spun to face his assailant, utter contempt written into the pained grimace that he wore. It wasn't hard to see that he was trying to conceal his emotions in the face of his adversary, though he was only half succeeding.

"I thought it was in your best interest to see me dead," Link spat.

Ghirahim clicked his tongue in amusement. Always so blunt and to the point this one was...

"As much as I would _love_ to put an end to your pitiful existence, now isn't the time nor the place, and I don't seek to do battle in some dingy little clearing." He tilted his head, scrutinizing the boy closely, but Link didn't seem to have any spirit in him to start a fight. Ghirahim's tone turned dark, a certain bloodlust creeping over his features. If the human was perturbed he didn't show it; he seemed more angry and upset than anything. How infuriating that the terror the demon had so relished in during their first encounter had never truly resurfaced...

"No, I will make sure that your death will be quite the spectacle to behold. I will make you suffer in the most unimaginable ways. I will have you begging at my feet to end it, I may even save some pieces of you for my master to indulge in when I resurrect him-" Ghirahim paused, frowning for only a moment as he was reminded of the pain he'd experienced not long before, though he wasn't sure why, "-but most importantly, I will completely humiliate you for all of the times you have dared to interfere with my work. Mark my words, _brat."_

Link didn't flinch, in fact his composure only seemed to grow more indifferent. He almost looked annoyed by the other man's boasting.

"So did you come here just to brag about my inevitable torture? Because you have never followed through with a single threat you've made. If you're not going to do anything," the youth's features twisted in extreme distaste and he sharply jerked his head away, "just piss off."

Ghirahim stiffened in surprise; he hadn't expected the boy to be so talkative all of a sudden. Most of all, he hadn't anticipated such a comment. It was quickly replaced by irritation but he brushed it off. The hero was but a naive mortal child after all. He knew nothing.

The demon lord took a languid step forward, casting an almost innocuous gaze around the clearing. Link planted a foot behind him, wariness in his defensive stance now as Ghirahim's eyes settled on him once more. Oh, so he did have some sensibility.

"Though if you're so _eager_ to die at the present time, I wouldn't have too many qualms about obliging..." The demon's teeth flashed in a nasty grin. "Of course, then there'd be no infuriating whelp to assist that ever so elusive tart of a spirit maiden and that doesn't seem like it would be in _your_ best interest, now, does it?"

It certainly was telling how the mere mention of the girl prompted such a violent reaction.

He'd barely gotten out the last of his sentence before the sharp sound of metal sliding from its sheath pierced the air. His own blade was out in an instant, parrying the wild blow with ease. He lunged forward while the human was thrown off balance and drove his foot into his stomach hard, the force of it sending Link careening back to slam against the trunk of a tree.

Link cried out sharply and sunk to the forest floor, clutching a hand to the shoulder that had taken the majority of the impact. He leaned his head back against the wood, clenching his teeth in pain and glaring at the demon.

"Oh ho, what's with that look? Did you honestly expect to land a hit with such an ill thought out charge?" Ghirahim taunted, stalking towards him. He spun his blade idly. "Perhaps I _should_ kill you and spare myself the trouble of having you interfere with my search for the girl again..."

A flinch. Ghirahim hummed, beginning to piece together what had plunged the boy into such grief - physically and emotionally. He could conjure up a multitude of different explanations, all of which sounded characteristic of the hero, yet they still seemed incomplete on their own. He knew Link held devotion for the goddess, very similarly to the way he himself served his own master unquestionably, but even so...

He eyed the other's form; battered, filthy, clothing torn in several places, and spots of blood staining his tunic red. He saw the defeat in those eyes, and the flame that burned underneath - an image he had seen before in a different lifetime having long since passed, with a different hero.

But the circumstances were more or less the same.

Link wasn't broken - it was doubtful that he ever would break - if the demon lord's encounters with him hadn't proven as much - but he _had_ bent.

Ghirahim didn't allow himself to ponder that particular matter any longer. A beat of silence passed before he added on, gesturing with his chin to the boy's state.

"You could consider it a show of generosity, seeing as you've clearly been put through enough hell as it is."

He didn't intend on killing him, nor being merciful, only to press at a wound less physical. He felt he had a solid idea of what was troubling Link so dramatically now. He chuckled lowly as the situation became more clear to him, the hero now visibly cringing at his words.

"Yes, the goddess always was notorious for having others do her dirty work at their own expense, and it continues to astound me how there never seemed to be a shortage of those willing to do it. It can't have many perks, I imagine..."

Hylia certainly loved to build up her pure and holy image, but at her core she could be just as cruel and manipulative as any other given deity. He knew perfectly well she and the gods had an agenda - Demise had his own after all - and that she was readily willing to resort to anything to get what she wanted. Different motives, perhaps, but their methods were almost inseparable.

He almost snorted. If there was one thing Ghirahim loathed Hylia the most for it was that she remained so self righteous about herself despite it all.

"Just... shut up..."

Ghirahim hardly made out what he said, it was so quiet. He mockingly cocked an ear towards the other.

"Oh, have I touched a nerve? Is that the reason I happened to come across such a miserable sight this evening? Are you tired of being _used,_ dear boy?" His own words made him stop his advance, a silent connection occurring to him as his gaze drifted away from Link temporarily, though it likely went unnoticed.

The hero shook, lowering his head and drawing his knees up a bit, his arms falling to his sides. He was clenching his fists in the grass so tightly, his blade having flown from his grip when Ghirahim had kicked him. It was hard to distinguish whether it was predominantly pain or sorrow causing him to nearly curl in on himself in such a way, though that answer became apparent relatively quickly. A rather audible sob broke from him, bringing Ghirahim's attention back to the complete mess before himself once again.

He said nothing for the longest time, wordlessly watching as a tear rolled down the human's cheek. Mockery of such weakness wouldn't have satiated what the demon lord presently felt as he observed his adversary break down in front of him.

As small as he looked, as much as they contrasted in nearly every aspect of their beings, the demon wouldn't deny the similarity of their situations.

Link was as much of a tool for the goddess as Ghirahim was for his master.

The demon had endured much in his lifetime, undergoing trials of his own, having faced wrath of his master many a time before. He knew what the role of a servant entailed. He knew what it was like to be a pawn in a greater game.

But the boy was merely a human child, not a weapon to be tempered, not even a soldier built for war. Yet Hylia had fashioned him to her own whims regardless, reshaping him with trials and shattering his spirit only to piece it back together again.

_By the gods, Hylia, shouldn't you have learned with your First hero...?_

Ghirahim let out a wistful sigh. Perhaps there were pieces missing, perhaps he didn't understand it all, but he understood enough. He considered merely leaving Link as he was, but already he found his blade disappearing and him closing the remaining distance between the two of them. It wasn't mercy, it wasn't the desire to comfort, and it certainly wasn't sympathy, but something much deeper and less identifiable.

Perhaps he merely wanted to toy with him a while longer. The hero's destruction would inevitably arrive, and he hadn't come across such an... intriguing plaything in quite a while. He could afford to indulge, while he had the chance.

As he lowered himself down to the boy's level, Link raised his head to glower at him, looking as though he would have lunged if he had the strength or the drive. It could almost be called adorable, but Ghirahim was hardly in the mood for resistance. Without any prior warning, he drew the human into his lap, deriving a shocked choke from him.

"I have to wonder..." Ghirahim crooned gently, ignoring the way the boy squirmed - with his arms pinned to his sides, he couldn't go far, "...what strings she pulled to net you into her little game."

It was hardly a struggle, and the demon's words only weakened his resolve. He'd imagined Link would have fought harder had his injuries not also have been hindering him. Soon enough, the boy stilled, though a tenseness remained in his form - understandably, given that he lay helpless in the arms of the enemy. Ghirahim merely drew him closer to his chest, one of his hands finding its way up into the mess of dirty blond strands and running through them.

Somewhat awkwardly crushed against the demon lord with his cheek pressed to the front of his cloak, Link craned his head back to look up at him. It seemed like he wanted to be angry, but confusion was written into his expression more than anything else. Yet as Ghirahim's touch slid down to his neck, massaging along it with a deceptive softness, the hero's scowl began to fade and eyelids drooped. Slowly but surely, his body began to relax, all too willing to accept relief despite the hand it came from.

Ghirahim was amused, feeling the other's limbs slacken against him in reluctant submission. He cast another sidelong gaze about the clearing, noting how cold it was growing. Really, just _what_ was Link trying to accomplish here out in the open? He should have been thankful that it was the demon lord who stumbled across his prone form and not some feral beast of the woods.

"Foolish boy..."

The human twitched at his words, but injury and exhaustion had taken their toll and he had no choice but to fall into the clutches of unconsciousness. This could be a lesson, Ghirahim mused to himself, for he knew that he would not be so forgiving the next time they encountered. He wondered if Link would even be able to recall this when he awoke. He had no intentions of sticking around that long and the boy seemed out of it as it was. Time would only tell, he supposed.

Even so, he found himself watching the steady rise and fall of the other male's chest with an aloof sort of fascination, listening to him breathe, slow and steady. How quaint it was that such an insufferable mortal managed to not only capture his attention, but hold it.

It was almost a shame he would eventually have to snuff out the flame of his life. Almost. He let out a wistful sigh.

"Rest now, sky child... Perhaps you'll survive long enough to see morning."

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><p><strong>em·pa·thy<strong>

**ˈempəTHē/**

**_noun_**

**The ability to understand and share the feelings of another.**

**R&R**


End file.
